


Learning Curve

by plotbear



Category: K-pop, SHINee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Actors, First Time, Gay Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-20
Updated: 2015-04-20
Packaged: 2018-03-24 22:44:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3787090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plotbear/pseuds/plotbear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jinki and Kibum are two actors who have to shoot a sex scene. As if that weren't traumatic enough, neither one of them has a clue about how gay sex actually works.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Learning Curve

“I say we blow up Amsterdam. Just drop a huge barrel of gunpowder in the middle of the city and- no wait, not the whole city, just the film library. After we evacuate the people inside.”  
  
“Even your diabolical plans are too accommodating.” Kibum slapped the menu down on the table just to watch Jinki wince. “If you had the backbone to blow up a whole European city, we wouldn’t be in this mess, Mr. ‘Oh, we’re perfectly happy to follow your artistic vision’. Tch.”   
  
Kibum rolled his eyes and took another loud slurp of his milkshake. Jinki thought about lifting his head off the sticky Formica table, but that would lift him out of the pool of self-pity he’d created, and he wasn’t ready yet.  
  
“Besides,” Kibum slumped back in the booth, looking around for the waitress, “we both knew this sort of scene would come up eventually. She just decided to shoot it in a different way. Come on, we’re professionals, and it’s not like you haven’t done a nude scene before.”  
  
“Nude scenes and gay sex scenes are completely different things, and you know it.” Jinki blindly reached out for his lemon Coke and brought it down to seat level, ducking his head down further and taking a series of quick sips before putting it back up on the table again. Kibum didn’t even make a comment about his odd behavior. It was one of the many reasons the two actors became such good friends during the course of shooting.  
  
“Fine, you big baby, so they’re different. Look on the bright side. We’re both guys, we’re working from the same template, and you only have to worry about plugging one hole. I mean, I’m doing most of the hard work, right?” He jabbed his straw into his glass, breaking up a stray lump of ice cream with an apprehensive expression.  
  
“I’m never going to repeat this as long as I live, but I’ve seen you in the gym shower Jinx, and that thing you lug around looks like it beats up other dicks in dark alleys and steals their lunch money.” Jinki lifted his head up to retort, only to discover that the waitress had returned at a perfectly inopportune moment. Kibum radiated nonchalance, like discussing girth at a diner was as commonplace as discussing the weather.  
  
Fortunately, she seemed to be a seasoned professional, because she held up an unwavering smile even when Jinki placed his order from his new hiding spot curled up in a ball underneath the table.  
  
*~*~*~*~  
  
“You better be bleeding to death in an alley somewhere.” Kibum cracked open one bleary eye to note the time. It was so early in the morning that even the sun was considering saying “to hell with it” and going back to bed. Since Jinki was calling this early, and he was notorious for never waking up before noon unless it was required, it could only mean that he never went to sleep at all.  
  
“It’s gunna be fucking brilliant Keybuddy!” Jinki slurred. “That uh, that Dutch film that inspired her,  _Vos En Konijn_? It’s waaaay beyond words! The passion man, the, the uh, inferno! Yeah! The inferno of...twisted emotional depth that they draw out with their uh…yeah. It’s not just erotica, it’s uh…it’s  _life_!” Jinki’s strained voice crackled on the other end of the line, followed by the distinctly fizzy snap of a can being opened.   
  
“…Jinx. Put the beer down slowly and step away from the porno.”  
  
“You dun get it! This is a crisis! We have to beat them at their own game! Artistic integrity is on the fuckin’ line here; our um…whassaword…measure as actors is being threatened! “  
  
“The only thing being threatened right now are your balls if you don’t get off the damn phone and go to bed.” Kibum ran a hand through his hair and flopped on his back. He hadn’t gotten nearly enough sleep to deal with so many exclamatory remarks.  
  
“But Keybuddy…”  
  
“No. Bed. Now.” Kibum shut his eyes and scrambled for anything that would get him off the line. “You have to sleep, or else. Or else you won’t wake up in time to get to the library and read.”  
  
“The library?”  
  
“Those Dutch guys have years of backdoor escapades to draw from. We don’t. So we have a lot of research to do, right?”  
  
“Oh.” There was a sharp inhalation of breath and a brief silence. “You mean…I thought that you…”  
  
“You thought what?” Kibum paused, then sat straight up in bed. “You thought  **WHAT**?!”  
  
“I mean, I just assumed, cause uh, you’ve been…acting…for so long and uh…”  
  
“Just because I’m bi doesn’t mean I’ve ever actually slept with a man.”  
  
“Don’t…don’t be mad, I wasn’t callin’ you slutty, I just thought you knew what went where. You always sound so damn confident.”  
  
Kibum unclenched his jaw to yawn. “Look. Get some sleep. Come over tomorrow, I’ll make dinner and we’ll get this figured out. Rehearsal dinner.” He willed his stomach not to clench over Jinki’s relieved chuckle. “Come by around 7, don’t be late, and bring a dessert.”  
  
“Aren’t you gunna be dessert?”  
  
“Lines like that are why you never get laid.”  
  
“Fuck you.”  
  
Awkward silence stretched out between them.  
  
“Go to sleep, Jinx.”  
  
“Night, Keybuddy.”  
  
*~*~*~*  
  
“A pineapple? Really?”  
  
“You said you like pineapple.” Jinki shifted from one foot to the other, kicking off his shoes at the entrance to Kibum’s apartment. His arms were weighed down with two shopping bags, his acting binder, and one large, whole pineapple. Kibum took the fruit, shaking his head as he mentally calculated what he would do with the inevitable leftover fruit.  
  
“I do, but usually from a can.” He caught Jinki’s deflated expression from the corner of his eye and grinned, bringing the spiny fruit up to his nose to take in the scent; he’d picked a ripe one at least. “Thanks. Fresh fruit is a nice treat. What’s in the bags?”  
  
Jinki flipped his bangs out of his face and smiled like a little boy just waiting to show off. “Glad you asked. I spent most of the day going to a few libraries-“  
  
“Holy-you really went to research this?!”  
  
“Well yeah.” He began pulling piles of books out the bags, spreading them out on the coffee table in a colorful display. “It was more difficult than I thought it would be finding legitimate books that dealt with the sexual aspect of the relationship instead of just the emotional, not to say that isn’t important, because all of them state that there is a correlation between-“   
  
“Hold it. We’re going to sit at the table with some wine and this amazing dinner I slaved over, and then you can launch into the psychobabble. Go wash your hands.”  
  
“Yes, Mother.”  
  
“Do you want to eat or not?”  
  
“I’m sorry, would Daddy have been better?”  
  
“It’s a start.” Kibum winked at him, feeling smug when Jinki blushed and wandered off to the bathroom. He went back into the kitchen, carefully arranging the food on the plates. It was only as he was drizzing the garlic butter on the grilled asparagus that the subtlety behind his menu marched to the forefront of his brain. Oyster fritters, asparagus, tiny Cornish hens stuffed with figs…it was the foodie equivalent to a date rape drug.  
  
“That smells great! Looks good too!” Jinki rested his chin right on Kibum’s shoulder, inhaling so deeply that his chest expanded into Kibum’s back. “Aww! Tiny chickens! You do love me!”   
  
“Quit drooling on me and sit down.” Kibum huffed. Maybe he’d be lucky and everything would taste so bad they could order Chinese instead. But even as he thought it, he knew with morose certainly that it wouldn’t come true. After all, he was the one that cooked everything from scratch, so it was doomed to be fabulous.  
  
*~*~*~*~  
  
“Let’s take it from the top of page 27.”  
  
“Sure. Just let me stretch a little first.”  
  
“Good idea. Go ahead. Stretching is healthy.” Jinki winced at his own words. “Did you need, um, help?”  
  
“Why would I-oh. No. Not  _that_  kind of stretch. The normal kind.”  
  
“Of course! Sorry.”  
  
“That doesn’t even come in until page 30. And we still have beats to work out."  
  
Jinki nodded in agreement and pretended to make a note in the margin of his script. He still felt like an absolute creeper, because he lifted his eyes over the top of his binder to watch Kibum on his hands and knees, executing a near perfect cat stretch on the carpet. They’d worked out enough that Jinki knew Kibum was scarily strong, but somehow he still managed to make himself look liquidly sensual. It was totally unfair, doubly so because it made it really hard for Jinki to concentrate.  
  
“Ready.” Kibum hopped up, shook himself a little, and sat on the kitchen chair he dragged into the main room.  
  
“What? I mean, great. Ok. And scene.” Jinki took a sip of water, got to his feet and slipped into character. “I’m not playing this game with you, Changmin. Either hand over those pictures, or else.”  
  
Kibum crossed his legs, fully embracing the cruelly sexual animosity of his role. “Or what? Don’t tell me you’re protecting her, after all she’s done. You fool.” He threw his head back and laughed. “It’s little wonder Dara walks all over you. She bats those pretty lashes at you and you’d crawl to the ends of the earth to fulfill her every desire.”  
  
“Shut your damn mouth!” Jinki grabbed him by the front of his shirt; just as they rehearsed, Kibum subtly pushed forward as he pulled, making the lift look more violent than it actually was.  
  
“I hit a nerve.” Kibum’s smile turned feral, lined with poisoned malice. “You’re no white knight, Yunho. You want her for yourself, but it’ll never happen. Youngbae will always have first place in her heart, and you can’t stand it.”  
  
“We must both be pathetic fools.” Jinki brought a hand up to clench around Kibum’s throat. “At least she knows I’m alive. You lurk in shadow like a spider, and what does it get you? He’ll never want you, ** _never_**! I have a chance, but you have nothing but a sick imagination.”  
  
Kibum snarled, stage-punching Jinki in the stomach and sending them sprawling to the floor.  
  
“Sick? SICK?! How  _dare_  you take the moral high ground with me?!” Kibum straddled him, fury sending sparks out of his eyes that made Jinki gasp. Kibum ground his hips down, making Jinki thrust up on autopilot. They both froze, breath coming a little fast.  
  
“Oh. Shit. Sorry-“  
  
“Don’t apologize. You’re supposed to get hard. I mean that’s the point of the scene. It’s hatesex.”  
  
“Right.”  
  
“This is good. A good thing. Because if you couldn’t…”  
  
“It’d be humiliating.”  
  
“Yeah. I’ll just get off. I mean get up-!”  
  
“You should s-stay.” Jinki tried to recall the taste of spoiled milk, the first fourteen numbers in pi, anything to keep him from humping his castmate like a randy teenager on prom night. “There. That thing you did w-with your-“  
  
“This?”  
  
“ _Yeah_! That.”  
  
“S’good?”  
  
Jinki shuddered, belatedly realizing that his grip on Kibum’s neck was getting a tad too tight. He looked up at Kibum, surprised and pleased to note that although they both fell out of character, Kibum’s eyes had a half-lidded, glazed look to them. It completely destroyed Jinki’s wish that he could shrink and spend the rest of his days as a tiny creature living in the wilds of Kibum’s plush carpet.  
  
“I think we should maybe try a warm up round. Out of character.” Jinki tried to look anywhere but Kibum’s face. “Just so we’re comfortable with each other’s bodies.”  
  
“Great idea! We need to be able to, to, give constructive feedback. Because we might have sexual quirks that we don’t want to show up on screen.” Kibum already had one hand on his belt as he used the other hand to pull Jinki towards the bedroom.  
  
“Exactly. Yes. We’re professionals, after all.”   
  
*~*~*~*~*  
  
“Make a left up here.”  
  
Jinki turned as he was instructed, his lips drawn together in a tight line. Kibum fiddled with the air vents and adjusted the seatbelt. The radio played a song that they usually sang along to, but this time they both pretended that listening in silence was the most important thing either of them could do.  
  
“Make a right at the second tight.”  
  
“At the what?”  
  
“I said, turn right at the second light.”  
  
“That’s not what you said.”  
  
“Yes it was.”  
  
“No, you said ‘tight’.”  
  
“...you just hear what you want to hear.”  
  
“Why are  _you_  the one getting angry with  _me_?”  
  
“Who said I was angry? I’m not the angry one; you’re the one starting a fight for no reason.”  
  
Jinki started grinding his teeth, turning the steering wheel with one hand. “I’m not trying to start a fight. Let’s just drop it.” The corner pharmacy loomed ahead, its sterile light washing out like a beacon of hope over the darkened streets. There was no visible parking spot, so Jinki continued driving up the street.   
  
“You’re just taking it out on me because you can’t stand being wrong.”  
  
“Oh! Hello there Mr. Pot, how’ve you been? Haven’t seen you in ages.”  
  
“Shut up and watch the road.”  
  
Kibum cracked the window a little, then rolled it back up again. The atmosphere was stiff and uncomfortable, and he decided that anger was easier to deal with than the faint echoes of fear that still roiled in the pit of his belly.  
  
“I told you that condom wouldn’t fit anyway.”  
  
“We’ll never know, now will we? Since you ripped it.”  
  
“I was trying to help, you fucking ingrate; your hands were shaking.”  
  
“Might not be having wild sexcapades every weekend, Kibum, but I think I know how to put a damn condom on.” Jinki circled the block, turning sharply enough to make the wheels squeak.   
  
“And there you go, calling me a slut again. Charming.”  
  
“No. You obviously aren’t a slut, because a slut wouldn’t scream like a banshee and try to sock me in the jaw when I pushed in a little!”  
  
For a millisecond, Kibum considered getting out of the car. That idea swiftly vanished with the idea of making the long trek back to his apartment alone in the dark, leaving Jinki to drive around lost for hours on end. He settled for scowling and crossing his arms in the most manly, non-pouting way he could. It worked up until Jinki slammed on the brakes without warning, starting a chain reaction of blaring horns and screeching tires.  
  
“What the hell, Jinx?! Are you trying to get us _killed_?”  
  
“You were scared, weren’t you.” Jinki’s hair was covering his face, the florescent glow of the streetlamps surrounding him in an urban halo. Of course he got dramatic lighting, Kibum mentally grumbled. He fumbled for a witty retort to cover up the difference between what Jinki said and what he really meant, and ended up settling for the truth.  
  
“You were too.” Kibum stared out the window, counting how many drivers flipped them off for blocking the road. “I wasn’t trying to give you some kind of complex. It all just got really...personal.”  
  
“Well, that’s about as personal-oh. You meant more like-”  
  
“Intimate.”  
  
“ _Un_ professional.”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Is...that so bad?”  
  
Kibum looked over and found himself looking Jinki right in the eye. They stared each other down for a minute, both of them looking for a tell, a sign, the most minute flicker to give away that the other one was playing a part or spitting out a line. But there was nothing but the roughest, rawest honesty, the kind that everyone says they want but no one really wants to face.  
  
“No. I guess not.”  
  
“Ah. Got it. Right! New plan.” Jinki eased the car back into traffic and completed the circuit around the block. “We drop into the pharmacy in a staggered formation for maximum efficiency. I’ll get the uh, activity supplies, and you grab a new lamp and alarm clock to replace the one you broke. Don’t say it Keybuddy, I know they’ll be tacky; but that’s what we’ll have to work with until tomorrow morning. We should synchronize our watches-”  
  
“Jinx. This isn’t an episode of the A-Team.” Kibum still laughed, and he was rewarded with one of those audition-winning smiles. “Gotta admit...it was kinda sexy, the way you tried to rip the second one open with those bunny teeth.”  
  
“I better win a thousand awards for this.”  
  
“You know what they say-”  
  
“No pain, no gain?” Jinki waggled his eyebrows as he parallel parked in front of the store.  
  
“...hopeless. You’re absolutely hopeless.” Kibum unbuckled his seatbelt, thankful that the night air cooled the raging blush that heated his entire face. “I honestly don’t know what you’d do without me.”  
  
“Become a criminal mastermind and blow up Amsterdam, I suppose.” Jinki shocked him by hesitantly slipping an arm around his waist. Kibum didn’t move it away or snap at him. After all, he reasoned, soon enough people across the country would be watching them have sweaty, wild monkey sex in vivid high-definition detail.   
  
In that light, what was there to be scared of?


End file.
